Snake Charmer
by YuYuChan
Summary: A Cardassian investigator stays on DS9 while he searches for the culprits in an attack against a Cardassia-bound trade ship. His presence causes some complications. Garak/Bashir, canon pairings
1. Chapter 1

**Snake Charmer**

Chapter One  
Disclaimer: I do not own ST: DS9 or any characters therein.

Author's Note: This is mostly a personal view of Garak and Bashir's friendship and all the implications of it. There will be light G/B and maybe some other pairings. It takes place during the first few seasons.  
Spoilers: Garak's past, season one spoilers

* * *

Commander Benjamin Sisko, a normally bright, well-mannered officer, paced back and forth in his office. He idly played with the old baseball in his right hand as he moved, graceful even at his most nervous. He turned to his science officer, Jadzia Dax, seated behind his desk.

"Tell me I'm not making a mistake," he said, tossing the baseball to Dax.

She smiled apologetically even as she caught the ball.. "You're making a mistake. But it's a mistake sanctioned by Starfleet."

"And that makes it all the better," he deadpanned, relieved when his comm unit chirped.

"Kira to Sisko," called a voice over the comm. "Our ambassador just arrived at dock two."

Sisko smacked his badge with more oomph than usual. "Check with Odo and make sure the path is clear. No one is to disturb us. I'll be there soon. Sisko out."

He gave Dax a significant look, turned on his heel and marched out of his office.

* * *

Major Kira stood stock still by the large, circular docking doors. She was careful to not shift and not fidget with her traditional earring, but she felt the urge to. The presence of Constable Odo, the Chief of Security, was a calming influence. Together they were a pair of statues, albeit grumpy-faced ones.

"By not fidgeting, you're making your discomfort more obvious." Odo pointed out, a sliver of concern showing through his bland tone.

The Bajoran snorted. "Good. I want everyone to know I'm sure as Hell not happy about this."

Loud footsteps made Kira glance over her shoulder. She gave Sisko a sharp look as he finally approached, panting lightly. "You're late." He grinned but it quickly faded as the doors slid aside.

Out stepped an elegantly dressed figure. He was just a little shorter than Sisko, with excellent posture and a very deliberate stride. He stopped just outside the commander's personal space and removed the hood of his navy robe. The Cardassian face, though expected, still sent a shock through the trio.

"I am Brimel, Chief Investigator for LoMak Systems." He paused, and then held out his hand to give a poorly executed handshake.

Sisko nodded slowly. "Welcome to Deep Space Nine, Ambassador Brimel. I am Commander Sisko, and this is Major Kira and my chief of security, Odo. We hope your stay here will be..." He floundered for the correct word.

"Brief," Kira chimed in. She stepped in between Brimel and Sisko, inches away from both but intimidating in her closeness. "You are not entirely welcome here, Ambassador."

Brimel nodded and met Kira's eyes. She frowned at his passive expression until Odo gently pulled her back by the elbow.

"I will escort you to the infirmary," grunted Odo.

When the Cardassian's eye ridges shot up in surprise, Sisko quickly interjected. "It's standard procedure for all persons remaining for more than a day to get a check-up. After that, you're free to do your business."

Brimel smiled knowingly. "I'm free to work with a guard around, isn't that right?" Odo nodded and motioned for the Cardassian to precede him, which he did. Together they headed toward the infirmary.

Sisko turned to Kira. "That was not a warm greeting, Major," he admonished half-heartedly.

"This is Starfleet's fiasco," retorted Kira, giving in to the urge to touch her earring. "But let me warn you right now: the Bajorans on this station will not like this."

"Don't I know it," groaned Sisko, leading the way back to Ops.

* * *

Brimel found himself entranced by the medical equipment in the infirmary. His eyes roamed the walls of the small waiting room he had been sitting in for nearly half an hour. Naturally he was a little irked but the novel imagery made up for his wait. It was not everyday he got to see Cardassian architecture and technology converted for Federation use.

Before he got desperate enough to count ceiling tiles, a human male entered and gave a sincerely apologetic smile.

"I'm Doctor Bashir," said the man, not bothering to offer a handshake and instead retrieving a penlight from a drawer. "Sorry for the wait but there was some trouble at the school."

"A school," Brimel murmured to himself. He tried to picture a human child, which he had never seen first hand before, and snorted. "I see. I am Brimel. Commander Sisko assured me this would be a short process."

Bashir flashed the light into his eye without warning and he clenched exam table in an iron grip. "Well, when Commander Sisko finishes medical school he can accurately judge the length of an exam." The doctor gave him a warm smile. "Remove your tunic and shirt, please."

Again Brimel was surprised by the human's boldness, but he slowly removed his clothing and sat shivering slightly.

Bashir looked apologetic once more as he scanned him with a tricorder. "I realize this is a little unorthodox, but we haven't had too many Cardassian visitors. I just want to check your lungs. Can you breathe alright?"

"Fine," Brimel lied quickly. "I do not understand how you humans can stand this cold temperature."

The doctor pressed a warm hand against Brimel's chest and the Cardassian nearly gasped. He was torn between the reflex to hit the human and his need for diplomacy. After a minute, Bashir retreated and returned his clothing.

"Thank you. You can put your clothes back on, but I need to give you a hypospray to help you adjust better." Bashir offered no alternative and Brimel hid his frown in his shirt. Sure enough, when he finished pulling on his tunic, the human pressed a spray to his neck.

He considered complaining, but he did feel a little better afterward.

"You are... competent, Doctor," Brimel stated, impressed while also annoyed. He rubbed at the spot of the injection, then rose and headed for the door. As he left, he heard Bashir's soft laughter and was surprised to find he liked the sound.

* * *

Elim Garak was not accustomed to being noticed. Not before, during his life on Cardassia, and not after, during his life as an exile. So when he walked down the Promenade to Quark's and had all eyes on him, he found himself unnerved. The very thought made him disgusted with himself.

Of course, he knew why he was suddenly the center of attention. He had found out about a Cardassian visitor days before and predicted a Bajoran protest. What he hadn't realized was just how many people were upset over Brimel's stay. He had yet to meet someone who wasn't ready to draw blood.

Quark's, he figured, was the best bet for indifferent service.

Entering the bar and finding a table far away from any Bajorans was a difficult task. Luckily, he spotted one Julian Bashir alone at a table on the upper level. The doctor seemed to notice his attention and eagerly motioned for Garak to join him.

Bashir's presence always seemed to draw a genuine smile from the tailor. "Ah, my dear doctor," greeted Garak, sitting down. "How rare to find you alone."

The doctor waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps I was waiting for you."

"No doubt to seduce information about Brimel out of me." The look of surprise on Bashir's face pleased Garak. It was nice to be able to impress someone. "How is the good ambassador's health?"

Bashir grinned. "He's fine. A bit cold but I'm sure you could have guessed that." He waited while Garak ordered lunch from Nog and then asked, "What do you know about Brimel, anyway?"

"No more than you do, I assure you," Garak said. "It is exciting to have another Cardassian presence, I suppose."

"Exciting is hardly the word, Garak. Kira and Odo are convinced there'll be a violent Bajoran protest." Bashir fell silent and stared at the table. It was obvious he had more to say from the way he bit his bottom lip. When he looked up, Garak tilted his head encouragingly. The doctor relented. "Do you... want to meet him, Garak?"

Garak tensed. "That would be a very bad idea, I think." He gave the human a small smile, sincerely thankful for the doctor's tact. The tailor had no interest in talking to another Cardassian on the station of his exile, no matter how homesick he felt.

Bashir awkwardly reached out and touched Garak's hand on the table. It was a gesture more bold and intimate than either was used to. "Look after yourself, alright? I would miss our lunch dates if anything happened to you."

The number of undertones to the simple phrase was so delightfully Cardassian that Garak snorted and squeezed the hand before withdrawing. He made a note to keep an eye on Brimel and, perhaps, Bashir.

Nog delivered Garak's lunch and they ate in companionable silence until Chief O'Brien entered the bar and headed their way. Bashir gave Garak a warning look before waving to the engineer; no doubt, he expected the two to butt heads as usual.

"Julian," O'Brien said warmly, standing by their table. He stopped Bashir from pulling up another chair. "I just came to check up on you."

Bashir arched an eyebrow. "Why's that? Molly's fine if you're referring to the school incident. One of the older boys had the stomach flu, that's all."

O'Brien looked pointedly at Garak, who stared back. "No, I meant that business with the Cardie. I heard you gave him an exam without a guard."

Garak frowned. Much as he disliked O'Brien, he had a point. He didn't like the idea of Brimel and Bashir alone in an exam room.

"It was just a quick exam," Bashir said. "He was very cooperative."

"I'll bet," O'Brien muttered under his breath. Garak narrowed his eyes. The engineer continued, " I have work to do. Next time, just keep a security officer around, alright? Throwing scalpels isn't the best defense."

"My aim's not that bad. Bye, Miles," Bashir watched his friend go. Then he turned to Garak. "You were quieter than usual."

The tailor smiled smugly. "You seem to have a reputation as a snake charmer. I was simply being charmed."

Bashir's light blush helped calm Garak's nerves. They moved on to discuss literature for the rest of lunch.


	2. Hellfire

**Snake Charmer**  
Chapter Two  
Disclaimer: I do not own ST: DS9 or any characters therein.

Previous Chapter: Brimel, an investigator from Cardassia, created some tension as he boarded the station. He briefly met with Bashir. O'Brien and Garak expressed some concern over Bashir, but mostly just glared at each other.

* * *

Odo didn't think of himself as part of Bajor or the Federation. He considered himself to be a neutral party. Escorting Brimel to the security office, however, made him realize just how things had changed on the space station. In renaming Terok Nor to Deep Space Nine, Bajor had thrown off Cardassian oppression and received Federation aid. Many people on the station remembered the past brutality just as well as Odo did. They would be happy to never see another Cardassian in their life.

Brimel was going to be trouble.

The offending investigator was steadfast and didn't flinch when a handful of Bajorans called out to him, but he did snarl at a more aggressive young man. Of course, Odo had sent security to round up the instigators, but they were reacting just as he expected them to.

"Spoonhead!" yelled someone from the small crowd surrounding the two. Odo quickly ushered Brimel into his office and motioned for security to watch the doors. Once inside, he noticed the investigator was laughing.

"What a strange expression! 'Spoonhead'. Bajorans can be interesting," Brimel seemed bemused and not at all concerned.

Odo groaned internally. Outwardly, he said, "The Bajoran people are not ready for a Cardassian on their station."

Brimel continued to smile. "You know, Chief Odo, this is my first time away from Cardassia Prime. It isn't at all what I expected."

"Is that so," Odo deadpanned. He was beginning to realize the other was worse than a pampered prince. He was dangerous while at the same time unaware of other danger, and that annoyed the changeling.

"Bajorans are very... blatant. They're very open." Brimel sat in Odo's chair and operated the computer. Odo moved to stand behind him and observe. "Still, they aren't as open as that human doctor."

Odo groaned. He knew just how tactful Bashir could be. Ready for a change of subject, he asked, "Just what is your assignment here?"

Brimel was reading through the docking logs with great interest, but spoke with care. "Two weeks ago, a Dobterian-Cardassian trade ship was destroyed en route to Cardassia Prime. It had briefly stopped here to gather supplies under the guise of official government work before taking off and, well, exploding."

"And you do not believe it to be an accident," Odo said blandly.

"You wouldn't either if you knew what the cargo was. No skin off our backs about the Dobterians, though." Brimel frowned at the computer terminal and glanced back at the changeling. "Show me all your files on the Maquis." Odo didn't budge. "Please," he added sarcastically.

Odo set to work downloading the latest Maquis information to a padd. He was a little relieved to have something to keep himself occupied. Conversation was not his forte. It was strange to be giving Federation information to a Cardassian, but those were his orders and he understood the need to cover all the bases if the Maquis were involved.

Loud shouts gave him pause. Outside his office, the upset Bajorans had converged and seemed to be growing more agitated. Brimel didn't so much as glance up from the computer terminal, completely oblivious to the mechanics of revolution. Odo allowed himself a few seconds of quiet loathing before he tapped the badge on his chest.

"Odo to Sisko," he said, and Brimel looked up curiously.

"Sisko here. How's the ambassador, Constable?"

Odo shot Brimel a look and he resumed his work. "He's going through our records on a Dobterian ship that may have been tampered with." He winced as someone pounded on the door. "Commander, I think we may have a problem. Some Bajorans have gathered outside my office. They seem ready to start something my officers can't handle alone."

"Understood, Constable. I'll be right there with Doctor Bashir, just in case. Sisko out."

Odo found himself in a dilemma. He couldn't watch both the crowd and Brimel at the same time. He knew better than to allow a Cardassian to work a computer unsupervised, and so focused all his attention on keeping Federation secrets secret.

Minutes later, he realized his mistake. Something broke cleanly through the glass window on the side of his door, ticking mysteriously. Brimel blinked owlishly at it, mesmerized by its novelty, and Odo yanked him down under the desk harder than he might have under different circumstances. He did his best to cover the ambassador with his body under the small shelter.

For a few seconds, there was quiet ticking and loud yelling from outside. Then, there was a hellish explosion. After, there was shocked silence.

Odo might have been relieved, were he not pinned under shrapnel. He had a hard time keeping his humanoid shape but couldn't form enough coherent thought to change.

Brimel groaned at his side, holding his left leg, which jutted to the side unnaturally. The Cardassian grit his teeth and dug his fingernails into his right thigh to distract himself. He cursed in Kardasi for several seconds until someone managed to convince the doors to open.

Two security officers and Bashir entered the room, the latter with a gleam in his eye. Although the doctor was relatively new to the station, Odo recognized this gleam as a look of professional outrage. "Can either of you speak?" he asked, quickly checking Brimel with a tricorder.

The Cardassian's snarls carried over Odo's quiet grunts. Brimel grabbed Bashir's hand when he tried to examine the leg. "Do not touch me, Human!"

Nonplussed, the doctor sat back on his heels. "Ambassador, if you want to keep that leg and continue your service to Cardassia, let me look at it."

Brimel glared at Bashir but released his no doubt powerful grip on the human. Soon, the leg was splinted and Bashir called in a medical transport to the infirmary. Odo quietly oozed into a puddle when they arrived, confident the situation was under control for now.

* * *

Sisko bared his teeth to the wall of the turbolift and rubbed his temple. While he had expected harsh words and accusations, he had not foreseen such destruction. He was just getting used to the Bajoran way of peaceful protest organized by religious leaders. An impromptu bomb thrown through a window seemed to negate all of that.

The lift stopped and he strode quickly to the infirmary, easily spooking any curious civilians with his fierce expression. Major Kira nearly ran into him on her way out. She held a Federation-style urn in her arms. At Sisko's alarmed look, she hastily explained.

"Odo's going through his sleep cycle to recover from the blast. We figured he'd want to do it in a more private place, so I'm going to watch him." Kira's knuckles were white from clutching the urn. Sisko spared her a small smile.

"Good idea," he said. "Keep me informed." She stepped out of the way and he entered the infirmary.

The medical facility was crowded. Nurses shepherded confused observers to be checked for injuries and released or admitted. In a corner, Bashir was running a dermal regenerator over a Bajoran woman's side. Brimel stood with a crutch, leaning over the doctor's shoulder. His presence seemed to upset the other patients but he was imprinted on Bashir.

"Doctor," Sisko gruffly greeted. "Report."

Bashir helped the woman to her feet and then motioned the commander and Brimel to precede him into an empty room. There he rubbed his eyes wearily. "There were no fatalities, but with so many people packed near the explosion, there were lots of minor injuries. Odo should be up in a day or two. Ambassador Brimel broke his left leg."

Brimel sneered. "And it has not yet been healed. I don't think the good doctor has his priorities straight." Sisko gave Bashir a sharp look.

"The Ambassador's leg has been set. As the only doctor on duty, I needed to help some of the critical patients. I sent a nurse to help him but he wouldn't let her touch him." Bashir shot Brimel an annoyed look. The Cardassian held his chin up high.

Sisko pursed his lips. He had no idea what was going on between his CMO and the ambassador, but he needed it to stop. "Doctor, see to Brimel now. I'll send some security officers to make sure this doesn't happen again." He addressed Brimel, "Ambassador, now would be a good time to reconsider staying here. Things might get worse."

Brimel gave him a wide-eyed look. "Why would that be? Once you execute the main perpetrators, I'm sure things will calm down. If you're worried about offending the Cardassian government, please relax. Surely the Federation didn't sanction this attack."

Sisko and Bashir exchanged a look. The young doctor rolled his eyes behind Brimel's back. Sisko attempted to explain. "Neither the Federation nor the Bajoran government use execution in the same way the Cardassian Union does. While I assure you we will get to the bottom of this, we will use non-lethal punishment."

"Non-lethal," Brimel spat, face showing his disgust. "This was not an incident at your damnable school. An attempt was made on my life."

"Yes," Sisko agreed. "But I believe we've warned you every step of the way. I will urge you to contact your government and see if your staying is worth these risks." He nodded to the doctor and then left.

Bashir retrieved a clunky instrument from a cabinet and motioned for Brimel to sit on the exam table, which he reluctantly did. He waited while the other awkwardly removed his trousers and then set to work mending the broken femur.

"Humans," Brimel grumbled between muttering in heated Kardasi. "What repulsive creatures."

Bashir couldn't help but smile. "Careful. You're beginning to sound like a Ferengi."

"Of all the insulting—" The Cardassian growled low as the machine worked on the main fracture point. "You are a not what I imagined, Doctor."

"That's not surprising. You've only just encountered humans. Imagine living among us all the time."

"Slow torture!" Brimel grunted. "Isn't that why your friend the tailor is here?"

Bashir's hand twitched and Brimel shouted in pain. The doctor quickly steadied himself and finished in silence. He laid the machine on the table and stared hard into blue eyes. "Do not mention my friend the tailor, Brimel," he said, voice steely. "You are free to leave. Take it easy. Don't undo my work."

The Cardassian stood uneasily, then more confidently. He smirked at Bashir. "There's hope for you yet, Doctor. Perhaps we will talk again soon." He left Bashir to worry in solitude.


	3. Probable Cause

**Snake Charmer**  
Chapter Three  
Disclaimer: I do not own ST: DS9 or any characters therein.

Previous Chapter: Brimel and Odo are involved in a flaming incident and Bashir showed his expertise in coaxing Cardassians to accept help. Also, there was some plot.

Author's note: Oh yes, I snuck a tiny Boston Legal reference in there. Whoo! What a rebel I am. Also, I have gotten the kindest reviews for this little fling of a story. Thank you very much.

* * *

Jadzia Dax let out a long sigh. She and Miles O'Brien had been working on the remains of Odo's office consoles for several hours, with little results. She rubbed filthy hands over her face without noticing the dark smears that followed.

"This is hopeless," she said dismally. "Everything needs to be replaced."

O'Brien grunted from the floor. He lay on his back, staring up at an endless tangle of wires. He felt just as discouraged, but was determined to finish checking the main console before he gave up.

"Chief," Dax said. "What do you think?"

"The explosion shouldn't have done this much damage," O'Brien grumbled. He felt a slight sense of failure that 'his' station would betray him. He craned his head to look for where Dax stood, her legs casting a shadow across the machinery, when he noticed something out of place. He looked closer, and then grabbed at it with a loud "Aha!"

He quickly climbed to his feet and showed the device to Dax. "This is it! This little bugger destroyed the systems."

Dax looked skeptical. "Of course. It's not like a bomb exploded in here or anything."

O'Brien snorted. "It's not the first bomb to go off on Deep Space Nine, and I doubt it'll be the last! The point is, the systems are shot. This contraption," he shook the offending device, "completely blew the main security system while the bomb went off."

"Simultaneously?" Dax asked in disbelief. "That's insane!"

"That's how I know it's true. And I'm not the one with soot all over my face." Dax stared blankly, and then scrubbed furiously at her face. O'Brien grinned victoriously. He pat the computer terminals fondly, proud of his discovery, before turning back to his companion. "Well, c'mon then, let's break the good news to Sisko."

Dax laughed. "Oh boy, he's going to love this."

* * *

Sisko sat at a quiet table in a tucked away corner of Quark's. He was pleased to find such a nice spot. The time since Brimel's arrival had been taxing; everyone was anxious to point out his mistake in allowing the Cardassian to board. At this point, it looked like they were right.

Of course, right as he had settled in to a relaxing dinner, O'Brien entered and nearly charged at him, with Dax slinking behind, a small smile on her face. His chief engineer wasted no time with greetings, instead slamming a strange electronic device onto his table and grinning ear-to-ear.

"Chief, so good to see you. Please join me," Sisko said sarcastically. O'Brien looked abashed for all of two seconds.

"This gadget is the source of all our problems, sir," he said by way of explanation. "It completely wiped out the security system."

"At the same time the bomb went off," Dax added, having caught up to the overeager engineer.

Sisko arched an eyebrow. "Old man, that's the craziest thing you've said since you tried to convince me Odo should be a lawyer."

Dax shrugged and sat at the table. "Crazy enough to be true, I suppose."

O'Brien opened his mouth to explain in more detail when Sisko's comm badge chirped. The commander obediently tapped it. "Sisko here."

"Commander, I have bad news." Odo's neutral voice startled Sisko.

"Constable?" Sisko asked in awe. "Should you be up?"

Odo snorted audibly. "I assure you, I'm quite fine. Matthew Lumond, however, is not."

O'Brien's eyes widened. "That's one of my new engineers. Awful at troubleshooting, but he makes amazing coffee."

"Oh, the Chief is with you," Odo paused, then began again. "Mr. Lumond was found dead in his quarters. It looks to be murder."

After a few seconds of shocked silence, Sisko sprung to his feet. "Get Bashir down there on the double. I intend to find out what happened, and I want it done yesterday. Sisko out." He turned to O'Brien. "Chief, I need you to follow your lead. If security is offline, things are going to get testy here. I'll keep you informed about Lumond."

He waited for a small nod and then took long strides to the crime scene. On the way, he fervently missed his relaxing dinner.

* * *

Brimel cast curious looks around at the unfamiliar quarters. He stood in Lumond's living room, awash in a sea of humans scrambling around, examining the crime scene. He found their methods bizarre and childish, almost laughably so. He chalked it up to another aspect of Cardassian superiority.

He caught Odo's eye and the officer gave him a withering look. The changeling had insisted on watching him while at the same time seemed to loathe it. Brimel couldn't imagine a better martyr for "public safety", as the constable had put it. He smiled ingratiatingly.

Sisko entered the quarters, face stony and questions demanding answers. Bashir followed at his heels and Brimel snapped to attention. He should have anticipated the doctor's presence, but instead found himself annoyingly surprised.

For his part, the doctor very skillfully avoided looking in Brimel's direction, focusing instead on the late Lumond. Bashir knelt by the body and examined him with a tricorder. He stared at the screen for a minute and then snapped on a pair of latex gloves and ran his hands through Lumond's coarse hair.

Brimel had never before been jealous of a corpse. He vehemently dismissed the thought just as quickly as it came.

Bashir glanced back at Sisko. "Blunt trauma to the back of the skull, sometime this morning," he said, voice professional. He yanked off the gloves and moved further from the crowd to call for some orderlies.

Brimel was stopped from following when Sisko approached, suspicion evident. "What are you doing here, Ambassador?"

"Your security officers have been fighting over me, I'm afraid. They seem to want to keep an eye on me."

"I wonder why," Sisko deadpanned. "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" His voice was a mesh of anger, remorse and exhaustion.

Brimel looked passed him, to the face of the dead engineer. He chose his words carefully. "No, but it's an interesting coincidence. That man is a Maquis."

The room grew quiet. Odo was the first to speak up. "You can't know that."

"Oh no, we Cardassians keep a close eye on our enemies, Federation strays included. His name is on the Maquis list."

Sisko cast accusing eyes to Odo. "Constable?"

"I will look into it, Commander." Coming from Odo, the words were an admission. The changeling's face never wavered, but he was definitely uncertain.

"No need," Brimel piped up. "If this man is Maquis, which I assure you he is, and he's dead then it stands to reason that he was involved in the shuttle explosion I was sent to investigate. Which means my job is done."

Odo growled low. "You have no evidence to suggest that!"

Brimel shrugged. "My job was to see the perpetrator brought to justice. Cardassian justice, that is, not your pathetic watered-down version. I would think you'd be overjoyed to see me go."

"I am," Bashir piped up, and Brimel bristled.

Sisko held a hand up to stop him from retaliating. "Ambassador, if you are satisfied, we are satisfied. However, no one leaves until I find Lumond's murderer." He turned to Odo. "Constable, you know what to do. Keep an eye on Brimel while you work."

Bashir stepped forward. "Sir, I'd like to do an autopsy but..."

"I'll notify next of kin and get permission," Sisko said, resting a hand on his medical officer's shoulder. He knew the younger man shared his distaste for the death of a comrade, Maquis or not.

In his own corner, Brimel narrowed his eyes. The open display of camaraderie bothered him. He left for his quarters, for once not caring that a security office trailed behind him.

* * *

Five hours later, Bashir was in a new set of scrubs, staring dismally into the chest cavity of one Matthew Lumond. The young engineer had a family history of lung disease, and Bashir was nothing if not thorough. He felt that any cause of death besides trauma might somehow clear the deceased's name. He knew it was a lost cause, but he held onto a sliver of hope.

Finally, he resigned himself to the original cause of death and set about preparing the body for its funeral rites the following week. Once he finished that, he began to strip out of the scrubs covering a tank top and shorts.

"If I knew being around dead bodies made you strip, I'd have donated my body to science long ago," A voice from the doorway startled Bashir. He spun but instantly relaxed at the sight of Garak.

"Oh, Garak," the doctor said, half undressed and still surprised. "I've just had my hands in a cadaver; I don't think I'm ready for lunch just yet."

The tailor chuckled darkly and moved closer. His blue eyes stared intensely into hazel. "I hear you have a duckling following you. It's cute, I suppose, but dangerous."

"He's not following me so much as trying to annoy me to death whenever we happen to meet," Bashir tossed his scrubs down a laundry chute. He stood for a minute, struck by the thought that he was alone with Garak in a morgue with little clothing on.

"If he does try anything..." The tailor visibly took in Bashir's clothing—or lack thereof. "And really, who couldn't?" He lay a hesitant hand on the doctor's hip. When that got no rejection, he leaned closer for a chaste kiss.

Bashir licked at his lips and then took a step back. "Really, Garak, the morgue is not the best place for this."

"Indeed?" he asked, all innocence. "Another time perhaps."

Bashir pointedly motioned to the door, but not before he trailed his fingernail down the Cardassian's neck ridges, eliciting a shiver. "Tomorrow, lunch?"

"Tomorrow it is," Garak agreed, and strode off happily after brushing his hand over the doctor's backside.


	4. Friction

**Snake Charmer**  
Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own ST: DS9 or any characters therein.

Previous Chapter: O'Brien and Jadzia discover a crazy plot, Sisko goes without dinner and Lumond, a character never before mentioned anywhere, is murdered, prompting Brimel to close his investigation. Also there was some making out in a morgue, which I so do not endorse (except I do.)

Author's Note: God, this is so late. I pulled the others out of my hat and then lost it and had to mail order a new hat to pull this out of. It's got that new car smell, though. Anyway, thanks for all those delightful comments! Also I just noticed that FFN ate all my dividers. I'm so sorry you've all been reading it mushed together!

* * *

Quark's bar, usually a busy place, was packed with customers waiting impatiently. The normally bearable chatter was escalating into the roar of a mob.

The situation was bad enough to rescue Odo from watching Brimel.

The changeling warily strode into the establishment. While Quark was not an upstanding moral character, he was a businessman who could keep his customers in line. The chaos he observed was unusual.

Positioned securely behind the bar, Quark unsuccessfully fended off Bajoran and Starfleet officers on lunch break. "Fine, leave!" he shouted at a retreating customer. "And I bet your mother was a Rigelian whore!"

"Quark," Odo barked, startling the Ferengi. "What's going on here?"

"Business," he replied curtly, tossing his dishrag onto the bar. "It's a little off today." He spoke harshly to a busboy in Ferengi and then took off toward the backroom. Odo easily caught up and gave the other a sharp look.

Quark threw his hands up in exasperation. "Yes, Constable, please follow me around. That'll help all the angry customers relax."

"I want to know what's going on. This isn't like you."

The Ferengi grinned humorlessly. "What are you, an aspiring Betazoid? An off day is an off day, Constable."

Odo looked around, determined to solve this little mystery. His eyes lighted on the busboy, who was managing the bar by himself. "That's interesting," he remarked. "I've never seen one of your lower employees work the bar."

Quark quickly waved the observation away. "We're short on staff today."

"Funny, I would have expected your brother to be here, helping out on such a busy day." Odo craned his neck dramatically. "Where is Rom?"

At that, Quark stopped short and jabbed a finger into Odo's chest. "Listen, Odo, I have enough problems without you following me around. It's bad for business!"

The changeling noted that Quark was sweating more than usual and seemed short-tempered, but couldn't tell why. Reluctantly he bit out a dismissal and allowed the Ferengi to enter the backroom alone.

Walking down the Promenade, Odo saw a dark figure out of the corner of his eye. Looking closer, he almost thought the figure was Ferengi, but the ears were different. "Dobterian?" he mumbled to himself.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought darkly, and continued to his office.

* * *

While Garak's shop was closed to any new customers, the tailor was working diligently on a piece that was due to be picked up. He trusted himself enough to let his mind wander as he hemmed a traditional Klingon Kal'Hyah outfit. He thought of dinner, Bashir, purchasing new supplies, Bashir discussing Cardassian literature, Vulcan silk, Bashir in the same room as Brimel.

That last thought made him stop and scowl at the incomplete work. He huffed angrily and put his tools away, certain that that train of thought would not be derailed.

Later, while he was still in a foul mood, the door chimed. Figuring it to be the customer, he schooled his thoughts and opened the door with an apologetic air. "I'm afraid I wasn't able to finish your—"

To his surprise, Brimel strode confidently into the shop. "No need to apologize, Elim," he teased unpleasantly. "I simply wanted to stop by before I depart. Who knows if we'll ever cross paths again?"

"Should I be so fortunate, "Garak easily replied. The two Cardassians stared each other down, false smiles in place.

Brimel slowly made his way around the room, observing the clothing on display. "I hear you do fair work. After seeing the good doctor out of uniform, I must agree. You did make him that shirt, did you not?"

Garak thought of Bashir wearing his birthday present and smiled inwardly. "I did. What fun we had measuring him for it." He shot Brimel a sharp look. "Around on your own, are you?"

"No doubt an officer is waiting outside." The ambassador curled his lip in disdain before recovering his composure. "They seem content to let me shop in peace, however. I rather enjoyed the local bar. The holodecks are intriguing, especially a certain spy program."

Garak snorted. "A childish game of waste and exuberance? Surely an ambassador such as yourself can find better entertainment."

"I'd almost forgotten!" said Brimel, suddenly grinning. "You must be a little curious about Cardassian affairs now. It must be so difficult, your fall from grace. Would you like to hear how Tain is fairing?"

The taunt struck Garak like cold water. His tensed, anticipating attack. "I assure you, I am not so isolated as you seem to think," he hissed. "I do so hope your mother heals after her surgery."

Brimel snarled and the two seemed ready to tear the other's throat out.

Suddenly, the door chimed. Garak forced himself to answer but refused to turn his back on his opponent. An annoyed Klingon stormed into the room, a female security officer in tow.

"Where is my clothing?" asked the Klingon louder than Garak liked.

"It's not finished yet," he replied ingratiatingly. "But it will be by tomorrow."

The Klingon snarled. "My Kal'Hyah is tomorrow!"

"It will be done in time. I assure you, you will have the clothes befitting an experienced warrior."

Brimel snorted, unimpressed, but the Klingon was pleased and left without further incident.

The security officer eyed Brimel distastefully and openly complained. Garak stifled a chuckle and enjoyed the sight of Brimel being chastised by a female officer half his size.

"I've finished my business, anyway," sneered the ambassador. "I'll have to remember to thank Doctor Bashir for his services before I leave." Brimel stuck his nose into the air and quickly left, the officer trailing after.

Garak quickly closed his shop, eager to find _his_ Bashir.

* * *

"Will I live, Doctor?"

Bashir fought to keep his face straight and squeezed his patient's shoulder fondly. "Yes, Jake, you will be just fine."

The young boy beamed and hopped off the exam table, eager to leave. Bashir called him back.

"Listen, I don't mind patching up a few black eyes now and then. It's better than treating serious wounds. But I want to know what happened."

"It's none of your business," Jake huffed, half-heartedly.

Bashir smiled encouragingly. "You're my patient and a friend." He had a sudden idea. "You know, there are some aliens that, if even a single flake of skin gets in an eye, it can cause blindness."

"Really?" the boy gasped in dismay, hand covering his previously black eye.

"No, but that's the kind of lie I would tell you if I didn't like you."

Jake chuckled reluctantly and, like Bashir had hoped, began to relax. "Alright, Doc, I'll spill." He paused, and then blurted out, "It was Nog. He's been so upset lately! Something's been bothering him, but he won't tell me what."

Bashir nodded, though he was surprised. "So, you kept asking and he hit you?"

"Yeah. Hey, Doc, please don't tell my dad. He's still a little iffy about Nog, though he's been getting better."

The doctor considered the plea for a few seconds. "I'll tell him you stopped by with a minor injury. It's up to you to explain how you got injured."

"Thanks, Doc!" Jake left, happy to have an accomplice.

"Kids," Bashir mumbled to himself, smiling. He was surprised to find he was finished for the day and eagerly took off down the hall. When he turned a corner on the way to his quarters, he nearly ran into Garak.

"My dear doctor," exclaimed Garak. "What a pleasant surprise."

Bashir smirked. "Surprised? When you're obviously looking for me?"

"Don't take away my small pleasures," replied the tailor as he glanced over his companion. "Are you alright?"

"No worse than I usually am after I run into people in hallways. Why, did something happen?"

Garak huffed sorely as they aimlessly walked together. "Just Brimel. He insulted my observational skills."

"Oh, no," said Bashir. "Well, he doesn't know about your love affair with Sherlock Holmes."

"I only read those on your recommendation! Really, how could anyone trust a man who isn't affiliated with the state and lets criminals go so frequently?"

The doctor grinned. He knew Garak enjoyed Conan Doyle's stories more than most human literature. They walked passed an unpopular meeting room and he was surprised when he was pushed into it.

"What—" Bashir was silenced with a kiss. Garak was surprisingly timid at first, but quickly grew bolder. They broke for air, Bashir running his hands through the Cardassian's slick hair.

Garak nuzzled his neck. "I won't let Brimel near you," he promised.

Bashir began to answer, but a loud noise startled them. He called for the lights and was amazed to find another person in the room, sitting in the corner. The figure was bound, gagged and blindfolded, but his two large ears were hard to overlook.

Garak and Bashir exchanged a look, and the former drew closer to the bound figure. He carefully removed he blindfold and gasped softly. He motioned for the doctor to approach.

"My God," Bashir exclaimed. "It's Rom!"


End file.
